


It's the End of the World

by doctor_hemlock



Series: Darksiders [2]
Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: Dancing, End of the World, F/M, Implied Romance, Subtle Romance, skeeter davis, tender moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_hemlock/pseuds/doctor_hemlock
Summary: "Don't they know, it's the end of the world? It ended when you said goodbye."





	It's the End of the World

“Ulthane! D’you really think you can get it working? _Really_?” The human, amazingly tiny in comparison to the Maker next to her, bounced on the balls of her feet, the largest smile she could muster in their given circumstances spread across her round, dirty face. Splashing through the water that ran through the Maker’s makeshift forge, she ran behind him, hope burning in her (dark/light) eyes. Ulthane looked down at her, barking a laugh out at her enthusiasm for a mortal contraption that served no true purpose other than to make noise. Unnecessary noise that he knew she would appreciate more than anyone left on her barren home.

“Aye, lass, I think I’ll be able to. Just give me a moment, it _is_ a bit tiny.”

War approached the courtyard outside of Ulthane’s makeshift home, only to be greeted with a quiet humming, soft music. Though he knew the Maker wasn’t an artistic sort, he _knew_ he had something to do with this. And he knew it was, more than likely, at his charge’s request he do so.

As he stood in the shallow water, he watched Ulthane move the slab of heavy carven stone, allowing the small human to leap through, bounding towards him with something small, black, and square in her arms. “War! You’re back!”

War found it difficult to bite back the ghost of a smile threatening to overtake his neutral scowl, the Watcher leaving its perch to drift towards her. Stopping in front of the spiteful creature, her expression quickly changed from exuberant to indifferent, choosing not to acknowledge its smart remarks.

“Ah, what do you have there, human? Finally something to silence your infernal yapping?”

Its comment seemed to blow by her like a gust of wind, her shoulders poised high with remarkable restraint, and she looked through it, directly at War. Slowly her smile reappeared, and she continued moving towards War.

“War! Ulthane fixed it!” And she continued walking until reaching the rough center of the yard. Placing the contraption down, War followed her form with his eyes, prepared to strike anything in an instant. But no foe came forward, and her fingers worked slowly, shakily. At last she stepped back, and a melancholy tune began to play.

War was incredible confused by it at first, and then almost embarrassed, as she turned back and began walking in his direction.

“War... will you dance with me? Please?”

His instincts were screaming at him to deny her, shut her down immediately. This could be a display, if witnessed, showing his weak point. In his ever-tactful mind, any physical contact between them could be seen as something affectionate, and if one of his many enemies would see, he knows she’d be in danger somehow even greater than before.

But then he looked down at her hopeful face, round and soft, delicate features pleading with him to indulge her, soothe her mind and quell her worries for simply a moment of an entirely _human_ peace. Moving his blue gaze back to the Maker, who was leaning against the doorway of his home, he acknowledged the growing smirk on his face. During this time, they seemed to communicate their terms perfectly, and came to an understanding.

Ulthane would ensure their safety, and War would do anything for his human. It seemed she’d grown on the old Maker as well, if he repaired something so trivial, so utterly obsolete to their quest. Turning back to her, he gave her the smallest of nods.

“I will... warn you, little one. I am no dancer. My step is as heavy as it appears.”

A giggle rang through the silence passing between them.

“I’ll go easy on you, big guy.”

Gingerly she stepped towards him, extending her tiny hand to him. Laying it in his immense palm, he grasped it with such gentle care, she gasped. In the same manner, he lifted his massive gauntlet behind and around her, moving slowly and with heavy consideration. Pulling her to him felt foreign, something wholly different than the malevolent nature he was intended to display towards humans. But it felt more right than wrong, and War continued in his motions with a slight boost in confidence.

She smiled at his concentrated expression as he cupped her torso, and she began to step in time with the music. It was awkward until they became accustomed to being this close to one another in a situation such as this. Of course, they’d been this near before, he would cradle her over great heights, clutch her against his back when traversing demonic growth, and even allow her to sleep near his strong thigh, desperate for warmth.

But now they were different, and War wasn’t particularly at ease with the warmth rising through his sturdy chest, beneath the breastplate of his armor that was something more than his body’s natural disposition. With her pressed into him as he lead, rocking her back and forth to the sweet, melancholy singing about the end of the world, they could feel the shifting of emotions between them, and kept going.

As the song came to an end, the Horseman slowed his movements, realizing he’d been carrying her for most of their dance. Lifting her head from his chest, she moved her head to match his gaze. In that moment he felt his heart clench, the innocence in her somehow bright eyes stirring emotions he thought couldn’t exist within him of all creatures. Suspended almost a foot from the ground, her delicate feet hung loosely. The Horseman supported her in his enormous gauntlet, forcing him to admire and fear the contrast between her gentle nature and his belligerent disposition.

In her eyes, compassion and something foreign, something he was unsure he’d ever wanted to see, swam in her murky depths. Immediately he began lowering her with an almost surprising level of care, as if unsure of her fragility. The entire journey down, her gaze focused on him. On his tough expression, cerulean eyes, permanent scowl. Echoes of doubt hummed through his mind, telling him what he told himself was true. That he wasn’t _good_ _enough_ for her, that she was _too_ _pure_ for whatever he was feeling, that—

“War?”

Her quiet voice brought him from his loud thoughts, small fingers resting on his sturdy forearm and shoulder. Brought back down to earth by her cadence, he lifted his stoic stare to the Maker who had been leaning against the hole to his current home, supposedly keeping watch this entire time. A thick simper looked as if it had been carven into his square face, fang protruding from his bottom lip. Suddenly War felt almost self-conscious, but he fought the urge to jerk away and startle her; she deserved better than that. He would never be ashamed of his companion, no matter what the angels above, the Charred Council, or the demons below thought.

Slowly he lowered his hands, bowing to her respectfully. A flush resembling the color of his cloak spread over her cheeks, entirely transfixed on his actions. Leaning into him, he felt her chapped lips press into his smooth cheek. “Thank you, War. I needed this.”

(Y/N) slid from him reluctantly, moving to the record player. The needle was moved again, back to the beginning, and she began swaying to the music. The rider stood, turning on his heel to approach Ulthane. They had much to discuss.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLnFNoA8FOE


End file.
